Cruciatus Curse
by Iris Marie
Summary: A fic about Neville Longbottom. He and his grandmother go visit his parents at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries during Christmas


A/N:  
  
All right... this story is about Neville Longbottom. It's how it  
is whenever he visits his parents at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical  
Maladies and Injuries. You hear about it in Book 4 (Harry Potter and the  
Goblet of Fire) on page 603. I suppose that it was such a shock to me that  
I wanted to write down how it must be for Neville. And this is the outcome.   
  
Spoilers in here!  
  
My 2nd attempt on a Harry Potter fic.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own no characters that have been read or heard  
in J.K. Rowlings Harry Potter Series. I do, however, own this story.  
Copyright 2000  
  
Please r/r!  
  
*~*~*  
  
"The past lies like a nightmare upon the present."  
-Karl Marx, The 18th Brumaire of  
Louis Bonaparte  
  
*~*~*  
  
  
The Cruciatus Curse  
by Iris Marie  
  
  
Christmas was in the air. The tree was sparkling with the fairy's  
glow, underneath it were the presents that were just waiting to be opened.  
Neville Longbottom was staring towards it, his back tense as he waited for  
his grandmother to come down the stairs. It was a ritual every year. On  
Christmas Day he was to go to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and  
Injuries. To go inside the building, go up the elevator, enter a room which  
housed his father and mother. His father and mother who didn't even know he  
was alive. Who didn't even know he was their son.  
  
"Neville! Sweety!" he heard as a hand landed on his shoulder. He had  
an urge to wrench away, to run out of the house back to Hogwarts. At least there  
no one knew about it. At least there no one forced him to look into the eyes of  
two people who his heart reached for, but a heart that was only to be dismissed.   
  
His grandmother was staring at him, her hand gripping his shoulder harder.  
Even at her old age, she was strong enough to handle such a boy like Neville  
Longbottom. He was her nephew, and if she died, he would be forced as an orphan.  
Neville looked towards her, his lips in a forced smile. "Yes, granny?"  
  
"Come now, dear... you don't want to keep them waiting, do you?"  
  
'Like they even care,' he thought, but he wouldn't dare say it aloud.  
He loved his grandmother; loved her for being able to keep up with him. With  
Snape scaring him out of his wits every year; having Voldemort coming to attack  
the school. And only last year, when he was in his fourth year, did Cedric  
Diggory die!   
  
He gave his grandmother another smile as he took some Floo Powder,  
threw it into the flames, walked in and cried out, "St. Mungo's Hospital for  
Magical Maladies and Injuries!" He then found himself in a white room, a  
nurse standing there, a quill writing by itself on her clipboard. Once his  
grandmother appeared behind him did she began to speak.  
  
"Mrs. Longbottom!" the nurse ran towards them, her eyes wide as she  
looked around. She glanced towards Neville, and her smile seemed to become  
more fake. "May I please speak to you... in private?"  
  
His grandmother got him to sit on one of the armchairs and he waited  
there patiently, somehow guessing what has happened. It usually did, of course.  
His father would be making a riot, screaming stuff like, "How dare you think  
that I shall tell you where you're blasted master is!" Of course, it would  
have a lot of obscenities added to it, but that was the basic message. And,  
his mother... Neville trailed off, his heart giving a painful clang. His  
mother would be on the floor, crying, screaming for it all to stop. Screaming  
that it hurt too much, but also screaming for the bastards to die. He glanced  
towards his hands and saw them shaking.  
  
His grandmother came back, and her face was pale. She seemed to be  
debating whether to turn back and come back another time, but she shook her  
head as she lead him down the corridor and up the elevator.   
  
"Neville..." her face looked as old and as strained as ever, her voice  
even quavering as she said his name. "Your father and mother-"  
  
"It's okay, grandma," he interrupted quickly. "I understand."  
  
She placed her hand back upon his shoulder and she was smiling grimly.  
"No wonder you were placed into Gryffinder. Whether you know it or not, you  
have your father in you," she said it warmly, but it was more like a sting  
then anything comforting.   
  
'I'm like a man who can't even recognize his own son?' Neville thought,  
but instantly felt ashamed. His father, Frank Longbottom, was an Auror. A  
respected one and one of the best. He went insane, with his wife, after being  
placed under the Cruciatus Curse by Death Eaters. They wanted to know where  
their master was. However, as people have been telling him as he grew, his  
parents would not speak, going through every inch of the pain till they were  
deprived of sanity.   
  
"FRANK!" he heard a scream echo through the hall and Neville flinched  
once more, wanting more then ever to run out of the building, or to go deaf.  
His mother was screaming as they heard things falling on the floor.  
  
"I will never tell you you fucking bastards!" he heard his father  
scream. Two wizards were trying to restrain him by putting a Full Body-Bind  
Spell to keep him from fighting them off. Ropes were appearing from the sides  
of the bed, circling around his father to keep him down.   
  
And then he screamed.  
  
Neville felt a scream crawling it's way out of his own throat; wanting  
to join along with his father's anguished one. He could just see what might be  
going through his father's mind. Four death eater's were surrounding the Auror  
that they have caught, each one screaming, "Crucio."   
  
As if snapping back into reality, he saw that his mother was a small  
heap in the corner, eyeing the 2 wizards that were trying to keep him down.  
His grandmother had pushed the wizards away and calmly placed her hand  
upon his father's forehead. She was hushing, humming soft tunes underneath  
her breath. A large whimper was heard in the corner and Neville looked  
towards his mother who looked close to fainting.   
  
He walked towards her cautiously, his eyes now burning. He wanted  
to run to her and fling himself in her arms. Wanted her to stroke his hair,  
kiss him, proclaim that she loved her darling son. The same way that his  
grandmother did. But, it would not be the same as his mother. It would  
never be the same.   
  
Neville fought down the urge and collapsed to his knees as he  
was a few feet away from her. His legs no longer supported his weight,  
the sight of his mom like this hurting him more then words could express.  
  
"Mommy?" he asked hoarsely, closing his eyes, wishing to hear  
her respond with a soft voice. Wishing to hear her say, "Yes darling," or  
something other then what she would usually yell.  
  
"Get AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed, scrambling to her feet, her eyes  
wide and frightened. "I'm telling you that I don't know where he is! I swear  
to you that I don't!"  
  
"Mom-"  
  
"Please, let my husband and me free! Please!" she was on her knees  
again, her forehead touching the ground, her slim shoulders shaking as sobs  
were spilling forth. "It hurts too much... please... it hurts too much..."  
  
"Mommy!" Neville cried out, his cheeks now wet at the reaction he caused.  
"I'm Neville, Mommy. I'm your son!"  
  
She was still crying, her head banging slightly against the floor. "Please  
don't hurt us anymore... we don't know where he is... we don't!"  
  
Neville tentatively reached out his hand to touch his mother's hand that  
had laid itself in front of him. When their skin touched, she began to scream.  
Neville began to sob, watching as wizards ran into the room and forced  
her upon the bed. As straps were soon over her body, trying to keep  
her down, trying to stop her from screaming louder. Neville now had  
his legs drawn tight unto his chin, his head in-between his folded arms.  
He was rocking back and forth as the screams continued, as if she was under  
another Cruciatus Curse.... just because he touched her... just because  
he needed to feel her hand.  
  
Instead, he rocked back and forth, his head buried in his  
arms, his legs drawn unto his chest. He cried, cried the whole time  
his mother was screaming and even when she stopped when the wizards  
forced some potion in her mouth. Cried when she just laid upon her bed,  
her eyes open but unseeing, her mouth agape as if to scream some more,  
but couldn't.   
  
"Neville," it was his grandmother, her old hand holding his to  
lead him out of the room. He closed his eyes as he remembered the slight  
touch of his mother's skin on his hand, and how he wished that he was  
holding hers instead. Like a son would do with his mother. But, he didn't  
have one. He looked towards her again, wanting to run up to her and fling  
his arm around her.... just to know how it would feel to hug her... just to  
know how it would feel if she ever hugged him back. But, no. He bit his lower  
lip as more tears fell. "Come on, Neville, let's go."  
  
  
The End  
  
  
So? Good or bad? I wrote this in like half an hour, but only because  
I had a huge inspirational burst. I really love Neville, he's one of my fave  
characters in the series. Well, please review!  
  
(c) Iris Marie Copyright 2000  



End file.
